


An Act of Impulse

by crossthesky



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003)
Genre: F/M, One Shot, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-10 21:42:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17434019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crossthesky/pseuds/crossthesky
Summary: She was only supposed to watch him, but he drew out the strangest impulses in her....





	An Act of Impulse

**Author's Note:**

> I actually wrote this to go with [some art](https://booya-moon.tumblr.com/post/181727042969/happy-new-year-heres-some-new-art-ive-been) that I did. It was originally going to be just a little snippet, but then I started writing it...

An obsession, they called it.

Lust heard them, in their hushed and archly smug tones as she passed by doorways. What did they know? She was doing as she'd been told by their master. Watch the Ishbalan, follow him. Keep track of him. Was it so terrible a thing to enjoy an assignment for a change? A pity he wasn't like the others, she hadn't been instructed to seduce him. That was a man she'd eagerly take to bed - he was fit and well built and handsome of face. Of course, she hadn't been told _not_ to go near him, either. Perhaps it had been implied, but it had never been laid out explicitly.

She could have been more discreet, she knew that. She stayed close, made little effort to hide herself, engaged with him at times. It didn't matter. This was a man on a clear path, her little games and amusements weren't going to sway him from that. It was impressive, in its way, his single minded determination. Like a boulder down a hill he simply kept on and on. There was a fascination to him, the same sort of thing that drew humans to great wild beasts.

He _was_ a bestial thing. It struck her quite keenly as she watched him in his repose. Like an animal he took shelter where he could, in the empty and forgotten places. Such a lonely way to be... though was it really so different than how she lived?

It didn't matter. He was preparing for the night now, she'd concealed herself in shadows as he hauled a basin of water back to his sad little shelter. She watched in anticipation, fingers curled to a fist and knuckle pressed against her lips. There was little light but she had no need of it. Clearly and sharply she could see as he bent and pulled his shirt off over his head.

Preternatural eyesight was often a blessing. From her hiding spot, Lust could see each shifting smudge of shadow and sharp cut of muscle as he moved. The tapering line of his spine as it deepened with his straightening, the dark hollow at the small of his back. Above the waistband of his pants two curves of muscle that arched down smoothly to draw the eye. 

Lust's teeth caught her knuckle between them.

His back was like some inviting foreign continent, all mountains and ridges and valleys. Her eyes moved upwards, over the coils of hard packed strength at the broadest points of him, to the swells of his shoulders. Was he so well built everywhere? Something lurched deep in her gut and she realized she was holding herself very still. A small sound escaped her without notice, barely more than an exhale but keenly loud in the silent night. But she was frozen where she stood.

And so was he. He paused, shirt discarded and back straight, shoulders tense. Lust could see as the tautness came into them, small tremors beneath the land of his skin bringing new rises and swells into view. They were shoulders that could bear the world. That thing inside her lurched again and Lust narrowed her eyes. What was he doing? Why was he waiting?

His head turned only slightly. The motion brought form a thick cord in his neck and the sudden fancy to run her tongue along came into Lust's mind.

"I can hear you, you realize."

Scar's words struck her like a blow. Heard _whatYou_." He turned fully then, lips curled in a sneer. Lust tipped her chin up, refusing to show that the sharply flung word unsettled her. "I should have realized. Who else skulks in the shadows spying on me?"

"I was hardly skulking." A toss of her hair. "Or spying. I was simply...looking."

The twitch of his eye spoke his disagreement clearly. Lust's arms folded, refusing to let herself be rattled. Why should he unsettle her? She could end him in an instant.

"Leave me be."

"Why should I?"

She might have, if he hadn't directly told her to. Made a few more idle comments and slipped off into the night to leave him to his evening routine. But now it was a point of pride - he had no power over her, he couldn't dismiss her as he pleased.

"Why _shouldn't_ you?" His shoulders heaved and the tightness that was through him emphasized each defined muscle on his torso. "Why should you torment me? Haunt me relentlessly?" He was moving then, and Lust wasn't sure he even realized. Moving towards her, arms stretching out. She stayed where she stood, anticipatory, a shiver running through her that had nothing to do with fear. He grabbed her round the upper arms, broad hands and fingers easily wrapping around the soft limbs. "What do you get from this?"

Lust made no move to escape his grip. He held her firmly enough to dent her skin but not so firmly as to _hurt_. She wasn't fool enough to think it simply good luck. She'd fought him - he had never once struck her back. He yelled at her, he puffed himself up like a threatened animal to intimidate her, but he didn't ever do her harm. He _could_ , easily. She could be hurt, even 'killed' to an extent, she simply regenerated. There was nothing stopping him blasting her apart with a well placed strike. And yet....

He wasn't so different from other men, after all.

As he gripped her, his face was very close to hers, twisted in a frustrated sort of anger. Even in his rage, there was something handsome about him. Something appealing.

It wasn't as though Lust didn't notice men. But in an idle and passing sort of way, simply an observation that meant nothing. Scar, though...it went deeper than simply something noted. She enjoyed the way he looked and the way it called to her. It _struck_ her, she supposed. Stayed with her long after she'd left him. Perhaps it was the ferocity that was something unique to him.

He'd asked her a question and Lust found herself with no real answer to give him. None that would satisfy him. 

God, his hands radiated such heat. 

"Something." As honest an answer as she could offer or articulate. Some thrill, some tending of a need she couldn't define. 

Bewilderment joined but did little to diminish the anger in his eyes. Eyes like the sun at the horizon line, blood on stone. There was so much in those eyes but they remained so difficult to read...

It was Lust's turn to move without thinking. He was so close. He held her so tightly, so close to uncomfortable but not quite. The heat of him washed over her. It seemed so natural a thing, so easy, to tip her head up and bring her mouth against his. And why not? This was what she did. This was what she _wanted_. Surely what they both wanted - why else would he be so careful with her, so delicate in his way? His lips, opened partly in a snarl, were practically an invitation. Who was she to refuse? 

Scar's lips were as warm as his hands and just as pleasantly roughened. Even the hardest of men were soft and pliant in the mouth, he was no exception. The action must have caught him by surprise, he remained still. A twitch went through his fingers but he didn't release her, didn't tear himself away from her. His mouth was still under hers, slightly parted and lax. She strained into him, taking his lower lip between her own. A dozen strange fancies came upon her all at once, vague half formed images and disconnected thoughts. His hands sweeping her up and laying her down on the stone floor. His mouth on her body. His hands in her hair. His body bare and proud in the starlight.

Suddenly she was flung away from him. He was retreating, panting, staring at her as though she had just played some vicious trick on him.

" _Don't_!" The single word was flung like a curse and Lust found herself bewildered and upset. 

And somehow foolish.

"Don't?" Again Lust tipped her chin up, projecting control. He had no power over her. He was not so different than any other men, there was nothing that made him that special. "I doubt you really minded..."

Something stopped her from advancing or pushing the issue. She only shrugged, watching him. He seemed more frightened now than when he'd first turned to see her. He watched her back warily, defensive in posture. The moment had soured. It felt needlessly cruel to continue to play with him. 

There'd be other opportunities.

Determined to at least have the last word, Lust gave him one final look over - deliberately, openly - before vaulting into the darkness above.


End file.
